


Stranger's Room

by feluriana



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Fluffy Ending, Holmes Brothers, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Other, i tried to write something cute, sherlock learns he can't play with bees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8310424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feluriana/pseuds/feluriana
Summary: The Diogenes Club was one of his favorites places even though it made him feel empty every once in a while. Mycroft followed to the Stranger’s Room and remembering the little and messy room that named the fancy chamber.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there. I'm not an English major, but I tried my best. Hope is not that bad.

The Diogenes Club was one of his favorites places even though it made him feel empty every once in a while. Mycroft followed to the Stranger’s Room and remembering the little and messy room that named the fancy chamber.

* * *

 

 

  
-Mycroft. Mycroft. I’m speaking to you – the calling started softly but gained an urgent tone. The older brother never answers right away; he always hopes the young one would just give up.  
-What do you want, William? – Mycroft growled impatiently.  
-Bees are so interesting, don’t you think? I just saw a bunch of them flying around mom’s flowers.  
-Sure.  
-Do you think that Redbeard and I could play with them?  
-Sure.  
Without crediting much attention to what was said, Mycroft nodded. He would do it to anything the boy could say as long as it meant he could be alone again.  
William left the room and Mycroft didn’t even move from the couch as he spoke to his brother. Their parents left him babysitting that afternoon because Mr. Hudson had an urgent appointment. Minutes later, a piercing scream echoed and disturbed the silent afternoon. Mycroft jumped out of the couch where he was reading and urged to the yard because he knew he would find his little brother there.  
The first thing he saw was the dog trying to scratch his noise with its pawls and then his eyes found the boy crying on the grass.  
-You said we could play with them! – William yelled. The rueful intonation in his voice and his red and wet cheeks made Mycroft feel guilty. He was supposed to be looking after him.  
Mycroft lifted the kid from the sward and carried him back to the house. Then, he took his mother’s first aid and removed the sting from his brother’s arms.  
-Now you just have to hold this bag of ice and pressure against your arm. Can you do that?  
William nodded.  
-Now… Where is the dog? – Mycroft asked and looked around.  
-His name is Redbeard.  
-Whatever. Where is it?  
- _Him_ – the kid corrected.  
-Okay. Where is him?  
William shouted to the dog and suddenly Redbeard was there. However, his face was swelled like a balloon and the boy started to cry again.  
-He is going to die! He is going to die and it’s your fault. It’s your entire fault. I hate you!  
Mycroft tried not to laugh as he got one ant allergic on the box and gave it to the dog.  
-Bees do that, they sting. You get swelled like that but you don’t die. You don’t even have to go to the hospital unless you’re allergic to them.  
When William understood his friend was okay, he started to laugh. It was such a contagious laughter that Mycroft couldn’t help but come along. The dry tears on William’s face made he feel more mortified for the second time that day.  
-I’m sorry for that. I should have said that you couldn’t play with bees. It was… Irresponsible. I’m so sorry.  
-That’s okay. It didn’t hurt that much and Redbeard looks so funny with that face – The dog’s face was starting to go back to the normal size.  
-I guess it was pretty funny – Mycroft agreed.  
They spent a moment without saying anything until William broke the silence with sadness in his voice.  
-I wish people could talk more to me.  
-What do you mean?  
-I mean… I’m always asking questions and they always say they can’t talk right now. They are always busy. And I know that when they answer me they don’t always tell the truth, they just hope I’ll stop bothering them. You know what? Grown-up people are not nice. They can’t even be pirates and what’s the fun about that? And you look a lot like them. Always busy, always ignoring me.  
The words bumped out of his mouth as they were expecting to be said for a long time.  
-I’m so sorry you feel this way. What can I do to make it better?  
His face puckered, William thought about it for a little bit.  
-You can start by calling me Sherlock.  
-Sherlock? Are you sure? It’s a…  
-Strange and stupid name – the kid interrupted – You already said that and I thought about it many times, I even asked mom why she gave me this weird name. But Mrs. Hudson said that I am the fifth William she has babysat for however she never met any other boy named Sherlock.  
Mycroft didn’t even remember when he said that his brother’s name was stupid. The thought of every mean thing he might have said to William jumped into his head and made him feel cruel because he wouldn’t remember, but his brother would. And worst, he would think about that often.  
-You didn’t let me finish the sentence. I was about to say that Sherlock is a unique name. And to confess something, I never really thought it was stupid, I was just jealous because it sounds so much better than Mycroft. I mean… Mycroft. What kind of name is that? Sherlock is great.  
The boy’s mien had brightened even though the sigh of the earlier tears were still on his cheeks.  
-You really think so?  
-Yes, of course. And will tell mom and dad to call you Sherlock too.  
-And will you answer all my questions?  
Mycroft froze. He was 13 years old and had a lot to worry about. He couldn’t just be there for his younger brother all the time. But then, an idea popped into his mind.  
-Willi… Sherlock. Do you know the dirty and empty room where mom keeps old and broken furniture?  
-Where do you think I find cool stuff to play with Redbeard?  
Mycroft smiled at the expression on his face.  
-Okay, so… Here’s the deal: every day we’ll meet there and you’ll get to make all your questions at once, so just keep them in your mind during the day and I’ll answer everything I can when we meet.  
Sherlock tried to disguise his happiness. He couldn’t let his brother think he didn’t have anything else to do, could he?  
-Hum… What’s going to be the name of the room?  
-What do you mean, Sherlock?  
-We can’t just call it “room where mom keeps old and broken stuff” because it would look like we are the old and broken stuff.  
-Okay, you’re right.  
Mycroft took a deep breath. Sherlock was indeed a strange child, but Mycroft couldn’t be the judger on that, after all, he wasn’t that normal either.  
-What about Stranger’s room? Does it sound good to you?  
-That’s perfect.  
Sherlock raised his hand insinuating that his brother should shake it, like in a formal business meeting.  
-I’ll meet you there, Sir.  
And then out of sudden, the boy hugged Mycroft.  
-Thank you, brother.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again. Really hope it wasn't that bad and I'm really sorry for any grammatical mistake or if my writing was too simple. I'll try to get better.


End file.
